


Lively

by MorinoAthame



Category: One Piece
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6018583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorinoAthame/pseuds/MorinoAthame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mihawk is used to Shanks. Shanks was fairly predictable. When the norm suddenly doesn't apply, he's not sure what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lively

**Author's Note:**

> Working on learning to write various characters. Not beta-read.

More often than not, Mihawk came across Shanks by accident, or vice versa. Months could pass before they crossed paths, or sometimes just a week or two. They were fine with keeping it to happenstance. Yet, there were occasions where one of them felt the need to seek out the other. Generally, it was with either news or, more often, an instinctual need to check in on the other man. 

That’s why it was a bit of a surprise when Mihawk noticed Shanks’ presence during a sparring session with his new pupil. He’d only had Zoro under his wing for a week when the redhead appeared, suddenly standing nearby as if the very mist had materialized him. 

Mihawk saw no reason for Shanks to need to see him; they’d been aware of each other at Marineford and that they were both well and whole. It was also unlike the redhead to come to Kuraigana Island. In fact, Mihawk was sure that Shanks had _never_ been to the island before. 

He sent Zoro flying with a sudden twist of his blade and then sheathed his sword to his back. “That’s enough for now,” he told the boy while his eyes were on Shanks. The redhead looked weary, the usual life about him not there. It was a little unsettling. 

“What are you doing here, Akagami?” He questioned as he walked toward the younger man, frown on his features. 

Shanks tried to smile, and it was a poor attempt by Mihawk’s mind. He sighed softly to himself. “Come up to the castle. We’ll talk there.” He looked over his shoulder. “Come on. You’ll not get back before dawn, if you don’t follow us.” There was a growl behind him, but he heard the teenager getting up and moving, so he led the way to the castle. 

The trek there was silent, which suited the swordsman just fine. He didn’t pay much mind to where Zoro went once they were there, leading Shanks to his favorite room to relax in and pouring them both a drink of wine. If the the Yonko was going to be in his home, he was going to drink something better than the swill he usually forced on Mihawk. 

The dullness of the captain was disturbing. He was usually full of so much life. “What has happened?” He asked, removing his sword and taking a seat. 

Shanks stared into his glass. “Nothing you don’t know about,” he answered before draining the glass in one swallow. 

Mihawk regarded him. If that were the case, what was wrong with the man? “Then you have to elaborate on why you’re here, Akagami.” 

The Yonko set his glass down and moved around the table to stand in front of Mihawk. He took the glass in the swordsman’s hand, drained it dry as well, then set it aside. It was an annoyance, but not something Shanks had never done before. Then, the younger man lifted a leg onto Mihawks’ chair and settled himself straddling the older man’s lap. His eyes were almost completely lifeless as they locked onto Mihawk’s own. It sent a chill along the swordsman’s spine. 

Reflexively, Mihawk settled his hands on Shanks’ waist and leaned his head back to look up at the man easier. “Something is wrong,” he spoke softly, growing more worried the longer this shadow of the man he was used to was in his presence. 

The Shichibukai didn’t expect the redhead to bend forward and tuck his face in Mihawk’s neck, his single hand twisting its fingers in Mihawk’s coat. No words came, but the breath against his skin was ragged. Sliding his arms up Shanks’ back, he rested one around the captain’s back and the other moved to bury a hand in red hair. 

Mihawk didn’t know what was wrong, but he didn’t press anymore. He held Shanks, letting the redhead get the comfort he sought. Answers would come later, one way or another. Even when Perona wandered it, he continued to hold the younger man, ignoring the girl, though he noticed the soft ‘eep’ like sound she made and the flush to her cheeks before she disappeared from the room. 

He wasn’t sure just how long he sat there, holding Akagami, but at least a few hours had to have passed before the Yonko sat up and looked down at him. “Take me to bed,” Shanks spoke, voice soft and ragged, and not with the pleasure that usually racked it when such a request, or demand, was given. 

Mihawk didn’t ask questions, he just stood, the Yonko in his arms, and made his way to his bed. Shanks was silent, pliant as he was spread out on the covers long enough for Mihawk to strip him of his clothing and pull the other side of them down so he could slip the redhead under them. He then removed his own clothing to slide in beside the younger man. 

Shanks shifted over toward the center of the bed, tucking himself up against the swordsman and resting his head on the older man’s shoulder. Mihawk stroked his fingers along Shanks’ back in a soothing motion. 

It was rare for them to be in bed, naked and touching, without sex involved. It was rare for them to ever see one another and sex not be involved at some point, but Mihawk could tell that Shanks didn’t really have sex on his mind this time. He had come for comfort. There was only one thing that could have caused this. Marineford. 

The swordsman turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to the hairline of Shanks’ forehead. “He’s a strong boy, Akagami. He’ll be alright,” he spoke softly. 

Shanks was lying on his arm, but he shifted against Mihawk and pressed more fully against his side. If he’d had his left arm, it would have been wrapped around the swordsman and clutching at him, like it once had so many years ago. This reminded him of the time when Shanks had returned to the Grand Line from his time in East Blue. The redhead had been worried about the boy then, too, though not to this degree. 

“You should have seen him. He is strong. I think he can make it, to the end. The loyalty of his crew, his ability to make friends of his enemies… He is a strong and dangerous young man, and he will go far in this world.” 

Shanks nodded against his shoulder. “I know, but… He has to be in so much pain, and that damn Akainu. I swear if I see his face…” 

“You will keep the peace, as you have to. We all have our roles to play in this world.” Mihawk kissed his hairline again. He really wished Shanks would perk up and smile. Seeing him like this was always disconcerting. This time seemed worse than any other, and he didn’t understand why. 

Shanks sighed against Mihawk’s skin and turned his face into it. “You always make things sound so simple.” 

Mihawk snorted. “Coming from you, that’s rich. I don’t understand your view of the world half the time. That boy is so much like you, like Roger. So stop worrying and snap out of it. You’re creeping me out.” He nudged the redhead with the arm wrapped around him. 

Shanks barked out a sudden laugh and lifted his head to smile at Mihawk. “That sounded ridiculous coming out of your mouth.” 

Mihawk rolled his eyes at that. The phrasing was something he’d heard one of the children say, more than likely. It felt ridiculous to say, honestly, but he’d gotten a smile and a laugh. It was more than worth it. 

“Thank you.” Shanks leaned in and kissed him softly. “You can be really sweet, sometimes.” He grinned. 

The older man sighed and turned his face away, closing his eyes. Now _that_ was ridiculous. 

“Aw, don’t be that way,” Shanks practically cooed. “I think it’s cute.” 

With a growl, Mihawk twisted his body around, hovering over a prone Shanks. “I am _not_ cute,” he bit out. 

With a hum, Shanks seemed to consider the validity of that statement. “Nope. Not cute. You’re _adorable_.” Light danced in Shanks’ eyes. It wasn’t as bright as it usually was, his smile not as wide, his brows were still a little furrowed, but it was better than nothing, so much better than how he’d been just moments before. 

Mihawk rewarded the cheekiness with a smack to Shanks’ hip before he leaned in and kissed his breath away. “Cheeky bastard.” 

Shanks chuckled and hummed, wrapping his arm around Mihawk’s neck. “You love me anyway.” 

Usually those words would annoy Mihawk. They’d be so full of confidence and amusement. Now, now there was uncertainty, masked hope and a trace of fear. He felt like someone had punched him right in the gut, his breath stolen from him. Shanks honestly wasn’t sure about it. Had he always been hiding that fear? 

“Baka.” Mihawk kissed him again, taking his time to slowly reassure his lover with his lips. “Of course I love you.” He wiped at the sudden tears that dripped from Shanks’ eyes. 

Shanks smiled serenely, a small tender sort of smile, before tightening his hold around Mihawk’s neck and resting his forehead against the older man’s collar. “I love you, too. Even if you can be a bastard.” 

Mihawk chuckled and laid back down beside the redhead, pulling him into his arms. This might not be the demeanor he was used to dealing with, but it was still Shanks, and that was all that mattered. Come morning, he imagined he’d have his hands full of lively redhead, who wanted sex and booze, and not necessarily in that order.   

**Author's Note:**

> I'm using prompt sets to write one-shots. I'm not sure how many prompt words out of each set I'll actually write something for, but that's where the title comes from.


End file.
